“Oh, no, Sergeant,” said Jolly. “If you have a gift, you ought to take it seriously. We’re like the law: we never rest. Well, except for you and Constable Peel. You like a rest. And arrests.” He chuckled. “See what I did there?”

“I did,” said Sergeant Rowan, “and if you do it again I shall drop you on your head. So where were you off to in such a hurry before I felt your collar? Somebody leave a bank vault open? Is there a cow standing in a field with bricks where its legs used to be?”

“No, Sergeant,” said Jolly. “I’m off to get a job.”

Sergeant Rowan was so shocked that he let Jolly go, and Constable Peel began choking on a piece of pie until Jolly helped him by slapping him a bit too enthusiastically on the back.

“Thank you,” said Constable Peel, once he could feel his spine again.

“Give him back his whistle, Mr. Smallpants,” said Sergeant Rowan sternly.

“Sorry,” said Jolly. “Force of habit.”

He handed Constable Peel his whistle and, as he was feeling generous, also returned his notebook, his pencil, and his hat.

“You mentioned a job,” said Sergeant Rowan while Constable Peel tried to store away his belongings until he realized that Jolly had stolen one of his pockets.

“Yes,” said Jolly.

“An honest, paying job?”

Jolly looked slightly ashamed. “It’s only temporary. Desperate times, and all that.”

“And what would this job involve?”

“Christmas elf at Wreckit’s,” said Jolly. “A chance to make children happy, and to lighten the hearts of their parents.”

“Lighten their pockets by stealing their wallets, more like,” said Sergeant Rowan.

“Speaking of pockets . . .” said Constable Peel.

Jolly handed over a scrap of dark blue material.

“Sorry again,” said Jolly. “Sometimes I don’t even know what my own hands are doing.”

At that moment he was joined by Angry, Dozy, Mumbles, and Dan, who greeted the two policemen with cheery smiles and the theft of the remains of their pies.

“Don’t you lot have a new van?” asked Sergeant Rowan. “I seem to recall seeing it being delivered yesterday.”

He frowned and tapped a finger to his lips.

“Now, what did it say on the side? Was it ‘Dan’s Twits,’ or ‘Dan’s Thieving Little Gits’? No, wait a minute, don’t tell me, it’ll come. Ah, I’ve got it now. ‘Dan’s Sods’! At least you can’t be accused of false advertising.”

“Very funny,” said Dozy. “Cost us a fortune, that van did, and we can’t afford new paintwork. How are we supposed to get around now? We only have little legs.”

“It’ll just make it harder for you to run away when we come looking for you,” said Sergeant Rowan.

“Why would you be looking for us, Sergeant?” asked Angry.

“Because the last time you lot worked as Christmas elves, there were some very nasty incidents, and don’t think that I’ve forgotten about them. That reindeer probably hasn’t forgotten about them either.”

“We were just feeding it a carrot,” said Dozy.